


The Iron Dream

by De_Laruta



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Action, Azula (Avatar)-centric, Azula always lies, Developing Friendships, Dimension Travel, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Family, Friendship, Mind Games, POV Azula (Avatar), POV Original Character, Suspense
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:00:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23945086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/De_Laruta/pseuds/De_Laruta
Summary: After a mysterious artifact shows Azula visions of a world filled with technological marvels; enough to make even the Fire Nation look primitive by comparison, she will not be satisfied until she has reshaped her own world in its image, where the power of technology is the only element that matters.
Relationships: Azula (Avatar)/Original Male Character
Comments: 10
Kudos: 18
Collections: Avatar: The Last Airbender, Azula: The Ambiguous Redemption





	1. The Crossroads of Misfortune

_**  
For what shall it profit a man if he gains the whole world only to lose his own Soul?** _

_**–** **Mark 8:36-38 King James Bible–** _

* * *

_Oh Zuzu_ , Azula thought with a slow shake of her head. _You and Uncle really have fallen on hard times, haven't you?_ Her delicate tongue clicked against her teeth in a half-hearted display of disappointment as she looked about the shabby little beach house that now surrounded her.

She had been just about ready to order her informants to be killed the moment she had first stepped through the doorway. The information they had given her must have been wrong, for the very idea that even a banished member of Fire Nation royalty would be found in a place like this was both absurd and offensive.

Even Zuko had higher standards than that, or so she had thought before taking her first step inside the cramped little structure that smelled of incense, unwashed clothing and every conceivable type of male odor.

Sparsely decorated, and barely furnished, save for a few rickety looking tables and chairs, the house was a depressing sight to behold. The more she took it all in, the more Azula found herself both laughing at her elder brother's misfortune and lamenting it.

Some might have described the shabby little domicile as being cozy or perhaps even charmingly rustic.

For Azula, the only word she had for it was claustrophobic.

_Though I have to admit…_ A sneer pulled the corner of her mouth back into her dimpled cheek. … _It does seem a fitting place for the backwash of our family to windup, especially after having suffered through so many hardships and letdowns._

She moved towards one of the lopsided tables which lay tucked away in what seemed to be the house's dreariest corner. An assortment of odds and ends had been left scattered across the wooden surface; seashells and polished stones; little figurines and other sorts of useless nick-nacks that only her dear Uncle Iroh would waste the time and money collecting.

She picked up a shell from the pile, felt the scrape of her sharpened nails scratching against the rough surface.

_A patron of the useless and the mediocre_ , she remembered her father once saying to her during one of those rare moments when their terse verbal exchanges shifted to something resembling an actual conversation.

Azula suddenly scowled, banishing the thought before it had enough time to take root.

She tossed the shell aside, knocking over several of the little figurines when it struck the table. When she reached for one of the polished stones, she stopped as something far more interesting caught her eye.

Setting aside her uncle's ridiculous little trinkets, Azula made her way over to one of the house's shabby looking beds, where a weather beaten traveling bag lay propped against the wall. Beside the bag, several sheets of parchment were strewn about in a disorganized pile that could rival even her uncle's.

_Really Zuzu,_ she silently mused. _Were all those years of royal upbringing completely wasted on you?_ She smiled, despite her admonishments, secretly relishing the ironic sweetness of it all. _Of all of Uncle Fatso's examples, being a useless slob is the one you chose to follow?_

She picked up one of the sheets, felt it crinkle under her fingers and found… Not at all what she had expected to find.

The parchment's yellowed surface was a chaotic mismatch of sketches, diagrams and blueprints; hastily scrawled notes and scratchy blotches where old ideas had been crossed out and left to be forgotten.

Azula frowned.

Her older brother may have been many things, but _scholar_ was certainly not one of them. Academics had never suited him. Even back when they were children, hardly a lesson went by without poor little Zuzu finding something to complain about, be it the difficulty of the material being taught or the quality of his sitting cushion.

Her curiosity piqued, Azula swiftly gathered up more of the strange looking documents, sitting herself down in a nearby chair while she held them under a dusty shaft of orange sunlight. She flipped through each sheet carefully while her golden eyes devoured every scrap of detail they could sink their claws into.

There were simple studies of gears, valves and pistons; graphical calculations of force and stress. She saw the inner workings of various Fire Nation technologies, rendered in crudely intricate detail with each component marked, noted and categorized.

There were even diagrams for things that Azula knew for certain didn't exist; small, two wheeled carts powered by tiny boilers; flying things held aloft on bulging sacks of super-heated gas; iron-heavy machines with piston-driven arms made for tearing into rock and dirt.

Some designs were so esoteric that even she couldn't guess their purpose.

Her gaze eventually shifted from the drawings to the scrawls of incomprehensible writing that filled in the empty spaces between. The language was unknown, the style very much foreign; tiny compared to both Fire Nation and Earth Kingdom calligraphies.

Azula's eyes narrowed, becoming little more than a pair of molten slits. She grazed the tip of her finger along the foreign writing, tracing over tiny loops and crosses and tapping the little dots that punctuated each line.

_Well now…_ she thought to herself, unable to hold back the evil little grin that now threatened to split her face in two. _Isn't THIS an interesting little development?_

She was about to reach for the traveling bag itself but stopped at the first sound of approaching voices; One old and cheerful, the other young and petulant.

Her uncle was the first one to step through the doorway, with Zuko following only a few paces behind.

Neither one took notice of her presence.

A triumphant smile was spread between the old man's jowly cheeks as he dropped his latest haul of seashells onto a nearby table.

"Aren't they magnificent, Nephew?" he asked. "Who would have thought that such rare treasures could be found in a humble little village like this?"

His tone was so cheerful that it was practically buoyant.

"We don't need anymore useless souvenirs, Uncle!" came Zuko's response, the embittered rasp of his voice still recognizable even after three years of absence.

Azula watched as her brother practically stomped his way towards their uncle, his face a tightly pinched mask of annoyance. When the table was within reach, he plucked a shell from the pile and held it in front of the older man's face.

"Did you forget that we have to carry everything ourselves, now?"

It was strange how much her brother had changed and how much he had remained the same. Same eyes, same voice, same undeserved sense of entitlement. He seemed taller than before, his face more angular than she last remembered; the left side now dominated and disfigured by the ugly red scar which their father had burned into his adolescent flesh three years previous.

"Fallen on hard times, have we, Brother?" Azula finally spoke up, making her presence known.

Both Zuko and Iroh turned at the sound of her voice. Surprise quickly corroded into expressions of suspicion and resentment the moment their eyes came to rest upon her seated figure.

An unpleasant silence quickly swept over the house as all three of them stared at each other. Before long, time itself seemed to slow to a sluggish crawl, with one moment oozing into the next like a flow of molten slag.

"What are you doing here?" Zuko practically growled at her, breaking the silence.

Azula smirked at her brother's lack of manners. "Is that how you greet family, now?" She asked, leaning her cheek against her knuckles while glancing at the diagrams she still held in her other hand. "In our country, it's usually customary for one to exchange pleasantries with a guest before asking them questions."

She paused for a moment before adding: "Then again, the Fire Nation hasn't really been your country for some time, now…." She leaned forward and favored her brother with a smirk. "…isn't that right, Zuzu?"

Zuko's good eye flared before he took several steps towards her. "Don't call me that!" he shouted.

"Still the sensitive one, I see," Azula retorted before shifting her attention to her Uncle. She met the old man's frown with a look of counterfeit sweetness and said, "You're looking well, Uncle."

"As are you, dear Niece," came her uncle's reply. His tone was courteous, the look on his ancient face unreadable. "To what do we owe the honor of this… unexpected visit?"

"There, you see that, Zuko?" Azula asked, cocking an eyebrow at her brother. "Even after spending so much time away from the civilized world, our dear Uncle still understands the value of good manners. You might consider learning from his example."

Zuko's scowl deepened, causing the skin around his scar to crinkle. "What… do you want, Azula?"

Azula just sniggered at her brother's attempt to intimidate her. "A little more courtesy from you would certainly be a nice place to start," she said. "It would be a shame for me to go all the way back to Father, without telling you what he has to say."

"Father?"

Azula inwardly blanched, sickened by the way her brother's tone and expression softened so suddenly at just the mere mention of their father. A part of her had secretly hoped that three years of banishment and deformity would have left him somewhat resentful, perhaps even slightly rebellious.

That would have at least made things a little more interesting.

But no… he was still very much the same, sad little Zuzu, who flinched at their father's every word and clung to the memory of their dead mother's skirts.

Taking her brother back to the capital in chains would be much easier than she had originally thought. The look in his eye told her that she had his attention.

"That's right," Azula said. "It seems that father has decided to give you a second chance. He believes he may have been too… harsh… when he passed judgment on you." She leveled her gaze with Zuko, saw the look of hope that she knew he was trying to hide. "He says that it's time for the Fire Nation's prince to return to where he belongs."

"He… he wants me to come back home?" Zuko asked, his voice like a scratchy wisp of old wind. "Father… he's forgiven me?"

"I said he's willing to give you a second chance," Azula replied sharply, adding just enough truth to the lie in order to give it just the right amount of pull.

Setting the diagrams aside, she pushed herself out of her chair and made her way over to Zuko, saw him tense at her approach until they were practically standing face to face. "Let's not get too far ahead of ourselves, Brother," she finally said. "Your banishment may have been lifted, but the matter of your public disgrace is one that still has yet to be properly resolved."

"If that is indeed the case," Iroh spoke up. "Then for what reason has my brother decided to summon Zuko back to the capital?"

"Always one to get straight to the point, Uncle?" Azula responded, silently noting the way her uncle had casually tucked his hands into his sleeves, hiding them from view. "It's nothing too important, just a silly little plot to overthrow the Fire Lord."

"What?" Zuko asked.

Azula smirked at her brother's gullibility. "Rumors have begun creeping up around the Capital," she said. "Whispers of discontent among certain factions who think the Fire Nation needs a change in leadership."

She looked back at Iroh who, unlike Zuko, remained unmoved and unfazed by her words. "You know how it is; plots within plots… treacheries within treacheries."

Before either Zuko or Her uncle could respond, Azula turned away from them, moving towards an open window. Arms crossed, she looked out at the grove of cherry trees that lay beyond the house, admired the way their blossoms resembled falling ashes.

"Father has always said that, in a pit of hungry viper-rats, one can only look to their own if they are to avoid being devoured." She turned back to Zuko, saw the way the sunlight played off the texture of his scar. "He's called you back because he believes in consolidating one's assets, regardless of personal opinions or past biases."

Done with the view outside, Azula crossed the room once more, returning to her abandoned chair which now lay tucked away in the shadows. "You may be the lowest of the low, Zuko, but you're still Fire Nation. More importantly, you're still family."

Even from where she sat, one leg crossed over the other in a very unladylike fashion, she could hear the sound of Zuko's throat clenching as he swallowed, saw the hint of a tear in his unburnt eye before he turned away from her.

The idiot was actually buying it.

She had him!

Before she could take too much pride in her skills of manipulation, a new sound began creeping through the surrounding ambiance of wind and waves and rustling trees. It was a subtle thing at first, so indistinguishable from the rest of the outside noise, that Azula hardly noticed it at first. But as the sound drew closer, it gradually began taking on the shape and dimension of an unfamiliar voice lost in the notes of a song.

" _Bum…De A-Dum! Bum…De A-Dum!_

" _Bum…De A-Dum! Bum…De A-Dum!_

Azula cocked an eyebrow at her uncle who's once stoic expression was now weighted down by one of worry. When he saw her looking his way, he quickly turned his attention towards the door, where the source of the singing was now growing louder.

" _Atom bomb baby, loaded with power,_

_Radioactive as a TV tower…"_

Zuko ignored it, choosing instead to continue staring out the window, fist clenching beneath sagging shoulders.

"… _A nuclear fission in her soul,_

_Loves with electronic control!"_

Azula frowned. The song was familiar to her, though she could not place the source, just knew that she had heard it somewhere before. The memory was there, though little more than a shapeless blob that could easily be shoved into any corner of her recollection.

Footsteps soon joined the one person chorus. She could hear them as they shuffled noisily across the gravel pathway, fingers snapping to the beat of the song before a shabby looking young man literally came waltzing through the threshold.

" _Atom bomb baby, little atom bomb,_

_I want her in my wigwam,_

_She's just the way I want her to be,_

_A million times hotter than TNT!"_

He was taller than Zuko, though the added thickness of his features gave him a slightly bulky appearance, like a stack of barrels that had somehow mistaken itself for a man. His shoes were caked with dirt, his clothes worn and faded, despite his obvious attempts to maintain them; strange looking in all respects due to their foreignness. Some parts even looked to be held together by stitching and patchwork. A tangle of rust colored hair sprouted from the top of his head like an unruly fungus; a perfect match for the tangles of red scruff that covered the lower half of his face.

Azula remained silent, even as the strange looking man danced, and ambled his way obliviously across the floor, snapping his fingers while tracking sand and dirt behind him every step of the way.

" _Bum…De A-Dum! Bum…De A-Dum!_

" _Bum…De A-Dum! Bum…De A-Dum!_

_Atom bomb baby, boy she can start,_

_One of those chain reactions in my heart,_

_A big explosion, big and loud,_

_Mushrooms me right up on a cloud!_

_Atom bomb baby, little atom bomb,_

_I want her in my wigwa—"_

It was only when he nearly bumped into her uncle that the singing foreigner suddenly realized he wasn't alone and immediately clammed up.

"Oh shit, you're back!" he exclaimed, looking between Iroh and Zuko. "Just how much of that did you guys hear?"

Zuko said nothing, sinking deeper into his grumbling slouch while the older man regarded the stranger with a faint smile.

"Enough to know that you have a rather nice singing voice," Iroh said. "It would certainly make traveling on the road more pleasurable should you decide to do it more often."

"Sorry, General," the stranger said, his accent just as foreign as his clothing. "But out of all the songs I had on my iPhone, that's the only one I bothered to learn by heart." He poured himself a glass of water from a pitcher. "And at this point, even I'm starting to get sick of hearing it." He threw his head back, emptying the entire glass in two loud gulps.

"I take it your trip to the village library proved to be less than successful," Iroh inquired, taking a moment to glance in Azula's direction before looking back at the stranger.

"Ehh" the stranger replied with a shrug. "I'd say it went about as well as I expected it to. Then again, I wasn't really expecting to find a whole lot regarding parallel dimensions or speculative quantum theory; at least not in a place like this anyway."

"What will you do?"

Another shrug. "I guess I'll just have to keep scouring every library and bookshop until I eventually find what I'm looking for."

"That may take some time," said Iroh. "There are a great many libraries in this world and even the greatest of history's scholars were unable to visit them all."

"I know, it's gonna be a huge pain in the ass but what else am I gonna do?" He suddenly stopped speaking, snapped a finger. "Oh yeah, speaking of which…"

Azula watched as the stranger reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bundle wrapped in a layer of waxy paper.

"…Here's that ummm… other thing, you asked me to look into." He handed over the bundle, which Iroh eagerly accepted.

"Ahhh!" Azula heard her uncle practically croon as he inspected the bundle's contents. "Much appreciation, my young friend! It will be a relief to finally be able to sit down in comfort—" but he was suddenly cut off as the stranger threw his hands over his ears and turned away.

"Ah-det-det-det!" The stranger exclaimed with a rapid snapping of his tongue. "Iroh, I was happy to do you the favor, but learning what that stuff was going to be used for was bad enough without you providing me with updates." He brought his hands together, palms pressed flat as though he were a sage in prayer. "So take your embarrassing medicine, use in good health, and let us both agree to never speak of this again!"

"Hearing you complain about it," Zuko finally chimed in. "You'd think that you were the one with the hemorrhoids."

Iroh coughed in embarrassment.

The stranger just rolled his eyes. "And he's talking again," he said, looking up at the ceiling before adding; "Was one afternoon really so much to ask for?"

"What was that?" Zuko barked, twisting around, the look on his face practically murderous. "What did you just say?"

"I didn't say shit, Zuko." The stranger turned back to Iroh. "So, are you good? Is there anything else you need?" Not waiting for an answer, he made his way over to the beds, stopping just a step or two short of where Azula was seated.

Ever oblivious to the girl's presence, he began sifting through the clutter, gathering up various odds and ends which he quickly stuffed into the traveling bag.

"Because if it's all the same to you, I think I'm just gonna–" As he reached for something else to put in the bag, his hand was swiftly grabbed by Azula's. Her strong fingers held him in place, her claws deterring any notions of pulling away.

"Ummm… hello?" he said, confused apprehension in his voice. "Something I can help you with?"

But Azula ignored the question, turning the hand over so she could study the ink stains beneath his fingernails. His hands were large, yet the fingers themselves were long and nimble; the kind that could be found on the hands of artists and musicians, yet calloused and leathery like those of a common factory worker.

"Aren't you going to introduce us, Uncle?" She asked, raising her gaze to meet the stranger's.

Two rodent-gray eyes stared back at her from behind a pair of wire-framed glasses that looked in dire need of repair. His face was teeming with freckles. Beneath his furrowed brow, a large nose stuck out at crookedly past a wide mouth which lay half-hidden behind his untrimmed whiskers.

He seemed almost primordial at first glance.

She saw traces of neither Fire Nation nor Earth Kingdom in his outlandish features. Him being Water Tribe was also an impossibility, what with his red-orange hair and freckled skin like old milk or a piece of stale bread. The Air Nomads had long been wiped out during Sozin's purge; when the Hundred Year War first started, so that was hardly worth further speculation on her part.

"My apologies," her uncle spoke up, his voice taking on a sternly diplomatic tone, the kind often used by those who's only goal was not to provoke her.

He moved closer to the stranger, placed a hand on his shoulder while gesturing towards Azula with the other. "Please allow me the esteemed privilege and honor of presenting my niece, her ladyship, the Princess Azula. Daughter of Fire Lord Ozai and Lady Ursa."

"Hello," the stranger said a second time, earning only a single nod from Azula, who's grip on his hand remained unchanged.

"Azula," Iroh continued. "This is Mr. Isaac Brockmarsh. He's been traveling with us for some time."

"Has he, now?" A tiny smile crept onto her painted lips. "I trust my uncle and brother have been good company? I'm often told the roads in the Earth Kingdom are quite perilous for travelers, these days."

"I can't really complain," the stranger named Isaac replied, keeping his words short and his tone even. He looked down at his hand, gave it a light pull and said, "Do you mind?"

For a moment, the Fire Princess considered not releasing him; just to see what he would do in response. A look from her uncle swiftly changed her mind about that. Instincts also told her that a confrontation with either him or her brother would only defeat her visit's true purpose.

That was something that she simply could not afford; not right now; not when everything was right there for the taking.

_Business before pleasure, I suppose_.

The Fire Princess favored Isaac with a parting smirk before snapping her fingers open. His hand pulled away instantly, though he did not recoil from her, nor did he step back as she had expected him to.

Instead, he just continued to stare down at her with a look that reminded her of the ones Zuko used to give her as children, whenever she flicked food at him from across the dinner table. More confused than angry, he looked at her as though she were an apparition, a phantom of light and shadow that he wasn't quite sure was really there.

"I'm gonna take off," he eventually said to her Uncle, hefting his mildew smelling bag over his shoulder. "I'll be back between sometime and whenever, so if there's anything you guys need–"

"There isn't!" Zuko cut in. He moved in closer to Isaac and jabbed him with his thumb. "We haven't needed anything from you since the moment we first pulled you out of the ocean! So stop acting as though your tagging along has done us any favors!"

Azula watched the one-sided exchange with a perverse sense of delight. An awkward silence soon fell over the house as Isaac and Zuko continued to stare each other down. Muscles restrained by self-imposed restrictions; lips pinched so tight, they were little more than wire-thin lines, neither looked like they had any intention of backing down.

It was the shabby looking foreigner who finally broke the silence.

"Iroh…" he said, his tone surprisingly calm despite the intense look in his eyes. "I'll see you guys later." He side-stepped around the Fire Prince, keeping his distance as he quickly made for the door, stopped and looked back.

"You know something, Zuko," he said, looking him square in the face. "You're in more dire need of a blowjob than any white man in history." He then glanced at Azula. "Nice meeting you."

And then he was gone again.

It took all of Iroh's strength to hold back his nephew who now looked like a volcano just seconds away from erupting.

"I'm gonna kill him!" Zuko snarled.

"Let it go, nephew."

"I swear to Agni, if he ever talks to me again, I'll burn that stupid red beard right off his damned face!"

Azula's unexpected laughter drew their attention back to her. It had started as little more than a light chuckle which she had tried to hold back. But the chuckle had quickly festered, forcing its way up her throat, tickling and teasing her pallet until it all came bursting out of her mouth.

She threw her head back, red lips stretched wide over glittering teeth as the last peels of laughter finally left her. She then brought her hands together and clapped, looked at Zuko with cruel, condescending delight.

"Oh Zuzu," she said. "I honestly can't tell if your taste in friends has improved or declined over the years. A little bit of both perhaps?" She turned to Iroh. "Or maybe he's one of yours, Uncle? Have your declining years left you so jaded, that you now feel the need to… experiment?"

Iroh ignored his niece's slight, a talent he had cultivated from doing so many, many times in the past. "Please forgive Mr. Isaac's behavior. I am afraid that he is unaccustomed to dealing with—"

But Azula just held up a hand, silencing him. "I've heard all I've needed to hear and said all I've needed to say." She unfolded herself from her chair, stretched her limbs like a waking cat. "Father asked me to deliver his message and now that I have, I shall bid you both a pleasant evening."

She suddenly felt her brother's hand on her arm before he roughly twisted her around to face him.

"Did you really mean what you said?" He asked, anger masking the desperation hidden in the rasps of his voice. "Does father… does he really… want me back?"

" _Want_ is a rather subjective word, Brother," came Azula's nonchalant reply before yanking her arm free. "The Fire Lord has requested you and Uncle's presence. What he _wants_ is a different matter, altogether." She tugged at her sleeve, smoothing out the wrinkles left when Zuko had grabbed her. "If you can't be happy in knowing that, then at least try to be satisfied."

Iroh moved to place a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sure your brother just needs a moment to—"

"Don't patronize me, Uncle!" Azula hissed, slapping the hand away before it could touch her. "If Zuko can't find it in himself to show a little gratitude when it's due, that's on him." She shot her brother a cold glare, all pretense and smiles gone from her features. "I didn't have to come all this way to tell you this, you know. I'm not the family's messenger."

"Then why did you come?" Zuko asked. "You didn't care when father banished me three years ago, so why should you care now?"

Azula shrugged. "I had my reasons. In any case, I can see you still need some time to consider all that I've said." She started for the door once again and this time, no one tried to stop her from leaving. "My ship is docked at the southern harbor," she said. "We depart for The Capital in the morning, so I suggest you both be on board by then… Or don't… It really makes no difference to me."

She came to a halt just as she passed the threshold, turned to face her brother and uncle one last time. "And tell your… _friend_ … that he's welcome to come along as well. It's a long trip back to The Capital and I'm sure Zuko would appreciate having a playmate to keep him company."

Zuko snorted steam from his flared nostrils.

Iroh's frown only deepened further, the tufts of his gray beard and sideburns bristling. "That is a very generous thing for you to offer, dear niece," he replied. "Especially to a stranger with whom you have only just recently become acquainted.

"Have you not heard, Uncle?" Azula exclaimed with a flamboyant wave of her hand. "I'm the most generous woman in all of the Fire Nation!"

And with those final words spoken, the Fire Nation's princess slid the screen door shut behind her with a nasty sounding _'thwack'._

• • •

The palanquin ride back to her ship was a relatively quiet one, though mainly because Azula had ordered her bearers silent, less they risk incurring the wrath of their Fire Princess. Nestled comfortably within a womb of velvet curtains and silk, she leaned back into the embroidered cushions of her seat, shrouded in darkness save for the small blue flame that she rolled back and forth between her fingers.

Her thoughts were consumed with all that she had seen and heard during her little visit. There were so many details to analyze and so little time to consider the possibilities and potential pitfalls.

The trap was set. All that remained for her to do now was to simply wait.

Her uncle may still yet prove to be a problem. Zuko's single minded devotion to restoring his honor may have made him as gullible as ever, but the retired General was a different matter altogether. Despite his age and oafish nature, her uncle was a wily old creature and bringing him down would require a far more tactful approach than she was normally used too.

Azula would have to move quickly while at the same time treading lightly.

Upon arriving at her ship, she retired to the seclusion of the main pagoda, where her opulent private quarters were situated and her small army of maids and servants awaited her arrival. As soon as their young mistress entered their sights, they immediately sprung to life in a great fluttering of their silken skirts. They carefully stripped her of her armor and clothing, which she immediately ordered to be burned and a new set prepared for her by the next morning.

She could think of no other way to be properly rid of the stink left by her brother and uncle.

Once the last piece of her soon to be incinerated attire had been peeled away from her slender form, the Fire Princess stepped naked into the adjoining washroom. Set deep into a tiled floor made of smooth cut volcanic rock, an enormous bathtub had been filled to the brim with steaming hot water in preparation for her arrival.

Heated to a near boil, the water felt heavenly against her skin as she took her time submerging herself beneath its frothy surface. She had often found it ironic that a child of fire, such as her, could derive such pleasure from their opposing element.

So comfortable was she, that not even Li and Lo's incessant clucking in her ear would have been enough to disturb her. The two old crones that her father had assigned to her entourage had been more tiresome than usual as of late, with their endless criticisms and constant reminders of loyalty and duty; to both her Lord Father and to the Fire Nation itself.

Once she began to slowly adjust to the water's scalding heat, she lay back against the tub's smooth edge and let her servants see to her body's every need. They washed and combed her hair with well practiced fingers, rubbing her scalp with fragrant lotions, while the ones who sat on either side massaged spicy scented oils deep into the tightly corded muscles of her arms and legs.

She closed her eyes and allowed herself to enjoy this rare moment of perfect calmness, basking under the predatory gaze of intertwining dragons and phoenixes that decorated the walls and ceiling in golden patterns.

Finished with her bath, Azula quickly rose from out of the water, a trail of steam following her like an unsatisfied lover as she stepped dripping onto the tiled-floor. She accepted the towel offered by one of the attendants but declined the robe, dismissing everyone with an order and threats of great bodily harm to whomever next disturbs her.

She made her way across her enormous stateroom, past the four-poster bed with its velvet hangings and through the adjoining dining area where she helped herself to the plate of candied ginger that had been left out for her. She moved towards the room's largest wall, ignored her private training chamber despite how much her revitalized flesh craved the stimulation of one last workout before bed.

She soon stood before a pair of enormous steel doors, studded with rivets and reinforced by a complex locking mechanism which kept them securely shut.

Standing back, Azula cracked her knuckles, stretched her arms and legs before dropping into a low fighting stance. She filled her lungs with air and let it out slowly, felt the flow of her chi suddenly flare up within her as she mentally redirected the currents.

Arcane muscles flexed within her arm.

Moving with a dancer's grace, she twisted about and plunged two claw-like fingers in a downward arc through the air. Her skin trembled. A rippling tide of electric blue light unfolded around her, crackling sharply as her claws lacerated the air. Her other arm was soon mirroring the motion. Sparks ignited between her fingers, blossomed and spread jaggedly across her limbs.

For a moment, she remained like that, relishing the cold bite of the electric discharge as it enveloped her. And then, with a violent, whip-snap of movement, she suddenly whirled about, pointed and fired a single bolt of lightning towards the doors.

The whole room shook.

A spray of electric blue ichor splashed across the doors, causing the reinforced plating to hum as the rippling torrent forced its way into the lock's intake nodes. There, within the complex inner workings, hidden mechanisms sprang to life, twisting and snapping, pulling apart and unfolding.

With a hiss of hidden pneumatics and a great groaning of steel, the doors rolled open, receding into the walls and revealing a hidden room of impenetrable darkness.

The lock had cost her a small fortune, and had been considered by the minds who conceived it – who were, of course, all dead now – to be the most advanced piece of technology ever to exist on their world.

Or at least it had been.

Stepping through the void-like threshold, Azula entered the dark little alcove, just long enough to retrieve the item contained within; a small, rectangular box carved from a single piece of bloodstone jade, which she carried in her hands with the utmost care.

Crossing the room, she made her way over to the study, gently placed the box down on the imposing looking desk, before removing the tiny key that had been hidden beneath one of her fingernails.

The box clicked as she inserted the key into the hidden lock, turned it until the lid snapped open.

Inside was a small pouch made of brilliant red silk, tied shut with a golden cord and embroidered with the three pronged flame of the Fire Nation in black thread. She lifted the bundle into her hand, felt the weight of the flat, rectangular object held within as she unwound the cord and spread the bag open. With a flick of her wrist, the item slipped from the bag as smooth as freshly melted wax, dropping into the flat surface of her palm.

Discarding the bag, she strode over to one of the room's plush couches, sat down and crossed one bare leg over the other. With her elbow propped atop the armrest, her cheek once again found its favorite resting place against her knuckles while she gazed at the curious looking object in her hand.

Despite its relatively small size, there was a weightiness to the object's mass, just enough for her to feel it pushing down on her hand as she held it. She watched her reflection stare back at her from the black, mirror-like surface of what she had long-since determined to be the object's _'face'_ : a pane of paper thin glass; perfectly smooth save for the telltale signs of old scratches that the royal jeweler had attempted to polish away.

She slid her thumb along the beveled edge, seeking the slender strip of metal that stuck out just ever so slightly.

Azula pressed her thumb down upon it.

White light flashed in her hand, brighter than any candle or flare, yet strangely cool to the touch.

The symbol of a partially eaten apple suddenly appeared, it's esoteric meaning still lost on her, even after seeing it so many times before.

This was soon replaced by a grid of gray circles, each containing a large white symbol that bore no resemblance to anything she would recognize. There had once been a time when their meaning too had left her perplexed.

At least that was until a little experimenting on her part had determine the grid to be some form of puzzle, a test of one's intelligence; with each symbol providing the necessary keys to open the lock but only if touched in the correct sequence.

The Fire Nation's most renowned code breakers had assured her that such a complex mechanism would take months, if not years to decipher.

Azula had figured it out in less than an hour.

Though in all fairness, the only reason it had been so easy for her was because whoever had set the lock's password had done a laughably poor job of it, using only the first symbol on the grid for the entire sequence.

A sequence which had only required four entries to complete.

It was as though the previous owner had wanted his secrets to be exposed.

Once she had completed the monotonous little ritual of implementing the all but useless password, "1-1-1-1" the grid of gray circles quickly disappeared. It was then instantly replaced by a new set of images and symbols, each one just as strange and colorful as its neighbor.

She touched the one resembling a flower with rainbow colored petals. It reacted to her touch instantly, expanding outward and filling the rest of the illuminated surface with yet another grid work of smaller images.

Unlike the symbols, these were far more easier to decipher, as they were more akin to the painted portraits and landscapes that hung in the palace galleries back home.

Only these weren't paintings at all, but images that had somehow been ripped from the very fibers of reality. She had heard stories of ancient Fire Nation alchemists that were said to have worked with such esoteric crafts. Some were even said to have spent entire lifetimes in isolation, perfecting their skills to one day unlock the secret of capturing light and shadow the way scribes capture the spoken word.

But this was far beyond the crude, barely recognizable blotches and streaks that the alchemists had burned into bronze plates with noxious smelling sludge.

This was a catalogue of memories, each as crisp as the day they had first been experienced.

She touched her finger against the first image, watched it expand until it filled the glowing window. An empty room now sat in her palm, a single window looking out onto an uneven horizon of rooftops. She flicked her finger across the image, watched as it followed the motion, replacing the empty room with the image of another, this one filled with brown colored boxes sealed with glossy strips.

She flicked her finger across the glowing surface again; repeated the motion again and again, until she was rapidly flipping from one image to the next; a small furry creature curled up in a cage, an unfinished meal, cities skylines, glittering towers that dwarfed even the tallest of her world's structures.

There was a solitary tree in a park, a rainbow that curved a through a cloudy gray sky, a line of boats in a harbor and two pieces of rubbish that looked like a pair of arguing faces. She saw sunsets behind bridges, and dead fish in beds of crushed ice, athletes playing in an open stadium and an old man shouting at a uniformed constable.

On… and on… and on, the catalog of random imagery went, seemingly endless in both quantity and variety.

When Azula was just about ready to give up her search, her eyes suddenly caught sight of several young people sitting in a tightly pact tavern.

_Yes… There we are!_

There was four to their little group; three boys and one girl, all dressed in mismatched sets of ridiculous looking clothing; green being the unifying theme and color. Each was in their own separate state of drunkenness, mouths open wide with laughter as they hefted huge, frothing mugs filled with some dubious looking green beverage.

An arrow pointing to the right, lay transparently atop their faces.

Azula tapped it.

A blast of noise at once came pouring forth from the device as the image itself came to life.

_Sounds of celebration; a wild symphony of clinking glasses and cheers and laughter. A dark skinned boy shares a sloppy kiss with a girl who's nose was studded with numerous piercings. At the group's center the two tallest boys stand above the others. Their arms lay draped over each other's shoulder as their drinks collide in midair, spilling another helping of green froth onto the table below._

" _Heeeeeeeyoooo, Boston!" The tallest boy shouts, his hair a wild tangle of red curls that clearly resented the hat he wore. His hopelessly freckled face is so flushed from the alcohol that he looks like a tomato. "This is Isaac Dan Brockmarsh wishing all you other losers and misfits of MIT 2016 a fucking Happy SAINT PADDYYYYYYYYY—"_

Azula tapped a second time, halting the sequence just as the screaming boys face thrust itself towards her.

"Father once told me that I was born lucky," she mused to herself as she studied the face staring back at her from the palm of her hand. "I wonder if the same can be said about you… Mr. Brockmarsh."

A press of her thumb and the image collapsed upon itself, blinking back into darkness with a pleasantly artificial _'click'._

* * *

**This work is dedicated to the many authors on this website who's works have not only entertained but inspired me for years and to the ones who's works continue to inspire me to this day. Among your vast numbers, there are those with a true sense of story and command of the written word.**

**From the bottom of my heart, I thank each and every one of you.**


	2. Call me Isaac

_**Listen to the** **thunder** _

**–** _**Wild Bill Hickok: Deadwood –**_

* * *

If there was one thing I'd learned since first becoming stranded in this world, it was this:

The Fire Nation had no use for subtlety.

Whether it was their clothing, their architecture, or the armored war machines that burned everything in their path, every last aspect of these people's culture seemed to have been designed to both impress and intimidate.

That was certainly the sense I was getting as I followed my two companions towards the ironclad monstrosity that now loomed before us.

The ship was an absolute beast; a steam-driven, coal hungry behemoth of iron, steel and brass, complete with an enormous pagoda that rose imperiously over the rest of the ship like a crimson spike. It dwarfed even the smokestacks which seemed almost puny in comparison. The ship itself seemed to be all spikes and rivets; sharp curves and jagged edges, all merging into harsh contours and unforgiving angles. Every inch of the ship's surface was emblazoned with the gold, black and red of the Fire Nation's colors, all of it looking as though it had been cleaned and polished just that morning.

Of course, me being who I was, the only thing I saw were self-made diagrams and speculative blueprints. With my bag slung over my shoulder, I devoured every detail I could lay my eyes on, studying the ship's otherworldly design, from the clawed prow to the jutting steam pipes. I took silent notes and mentally broke down base components, my mind already working out solutions to flaws that may or may not have been there.

I pulled myself away from my silent tinkering to glance between Zuko and his Uncle. The old man's usual jovial nature was now replaced by something far more cautious. He was like an old alley-cat quietly observing his environment as though he were expecting it to jump out at him.

I'm honestly not sure which was worse, the old man's paranoia, or the prince's sickening optimism.

Zuko being in a good mood was actually kind of unsettling, to be perfectly honest, seeing as how he seemed to spend most of his time either brooding, complaining or verbally abusing his uncle.

And of course, we certainly can't leave out all the times I had to listen to him stomp and rage about his ship (when he still had one) shouting: _'I'll get you next time Avatar! Next time!'_ while shaking his fist in the air.

Christ, I really hoped the sister was at least nice enough to give us separate cabins.

I swear to god, If I had to listen to one more second of Zuko pissing in my ear about the Avatar, his father, his throne or his fucking honor…

…I probably would have gotten my ass kicked.

One does not casually tell a fire bender to shut up; not unless they happen to be holding a very big fire extinguisher.

Once we reached the ship's upper deck, the two guards blocking our way suddenly stepped aside with a sharp clatter of their crimson armor. Their faces lay hidden behind the grillwork of their visors as they watched us make our way past.

Iroh darted his old eyes between each guard, frowned deeply. His posture was stiff and his mouth tightly shut. For a moment, I could've sworn that I even saw the hairs of his gray whiskers bristling.

Something about this whole thing definitely had the old man on edge.

Surprisingly enough, it was actually pretty quiet above deck, despite being all but teeming with armed guards and fire bending soldiers. Their large numbers were a little unsettling but the sight was something that I had come to expect whenever I encountered anything related to the Fire Nation's military.

With everyone waiting for our young host to make her appearance, I used the opportunity to take one last look at the mainland. My free hand shaded my eyes from the rising sun as I stared out across the waves. I listened as they crashed against the rocks and cliffs that rose up from the shore, their sun-bleached crags and crevices broken by patches of pink shrubbery.

I was actually kind of sad to say goodbye to the place. Kokyu (which I would later learn was old Fire Nation for _breathe deep and seek peace_ ) may not have been the most exciting place in this otherwise extraordinary world, but the little spa-village had its charm. It had also more or less been my home since the day Iroh had shoved that small pouch of coins into my hand and sent me on ahead.

It had been just after that sideburned prick, Zhao had commandeered Zuko's crew for his big invasion of the Northern Water Tribe, and both me and Iroh had agreed that a war zone was the last place for someone like me.

Much as I may have hated getting temporarily ditched by my two traveling companions, the General's decision to send me on ahead would later turn out to be a blessing in disguise.

And when the first stories started drifting in about what had supposedly happened during that delightful little excursion, I was all the more glad to have sat that one out.

As for Kokyu itself, I would miss its beaches and its tide pools; would miss the sweet smell of the cherry tree groves and the way the sound of the crashing waves would sing me to sleep nearly every night. I would miss hearing the laughter of the local children as they played and chased each other through the streets and the food stalls that always smelled of seasoned meat, spices and garlic.

But most of all, I would miss the cute fisherman's daughter that I had somehow made friends with over the course of my stay. Miyu, I think her name was — she really wasn't much for talking; especially those nights when she would quietly slip into my bed and wrap herself around me like an affectionate little octopus — or was it pentapus?

But I think two and-a-half months was time long enough to cool ones heels. And now that my own were good a chilly, I was ready to get back on the road and continue my not quite hopeless search for a way home; to a universe where people who control elements are regulated to comic books and animals don't look like something from an old game of Sim Life.

And so, after enjoying a nice little rendezvous with Miyu the previous evening; one involving a bonfire for two on the beach, I was soon told about Zuko's supposed redeeming in the eyes of his father, the Lord of Fire (or whatever the hell the title was.)

This unexpected news had apparently come straight from the mouth of Zuko's creepy little sister, whom I had briefly encountered the previous evening. In addition, she had also brought with her a very generous offer to shlep all three of us back to the Fire Nation's Capital.

And aboard her luxurious private barge, no less!

The whole thing had certainly been enough to lift the prince's spirits. He had even seemed to have completely forgotten my blowjob comment from earlier, which was just fine by me.

Jesus H Christ! I still couldn't believe that I actually got away with that!

Iroh on the other hand just looked discerned by the whole situation. It was as if there was something that just didn't sit right with him, like a smell that only his nose could detect.

I had watched as the old man spoke to his nephew at length about his doubts. Zuko, of course, had quickly responded with his usual bad attitude, shouts and accusations all culminating in the young Fire Prince pretty much telling his uncle to go to hell before storming off.

Why Iroh continued to stick by the little punk, was a mystery that I knew that I would never really understand. The man was, if nothing else, a pragmatic old codger. And if he thought there was something up with the girl's offer, then there must've been something to that.

Unfortunately, like Zuko, I didn't really have the luxury of being suspicious.

I needed to get out of this world and a ticket to the Fire Nations capital and all its library's was probably the best way to go about doing it.

_Fuck the risks!_ I had told myself, reasoning that I would just have to worry about all of that when I had to — or, as they say in the Fire Nation _'We'll burn that bridge once we've crossed it.'_

"Brother!" a smooth yet commanding voice called out from across the deck, pulling me from my self-indulgent musings. "Uncle! I'm so glad that you've decided to come!"

My two companions suddenly halted in their tracks, bowing at once to the approaching figure of our host and apparent rescuer, the girl named Azula.

Flanked by a small phalanx of bodyguards and dressed in a set of dark, ornately fashioned armor, Princess Azula moved with a sense of authority that radiated with well practiced arrogance. Hands clasped behind her back, the girl took her time as she made her way towards us, her wide-legged stance adding an extra bit of swagger to each step.

My ears twitched at the tap-tapping of her boots as I watched her, silently amused by the sight of a teenage girl in command of a crew of trained soldiers nearly twice her size and age.

The closer she got, the more her resemblance to Zuko became apparent. Same golden eyes, same high cheekbones, same proud chin. The sister seemed to favor a less aquiline nose than her older brother and the fullness of her red, painted lips were something she had no doubt inherited from their mother.

I tried not to laugh at just how tiny she was; just barely five feet tall, even with her hair pulled back into a tightly fashioned topknot. Her skin was fair, her heart shaped face framed by two raven locks the hung sharply past her chin. She wore no jewelry, save for a simple gold headpiece shaped in the likeness of a flame, or a claw, or perhaps even both.

There was a cold beauty to her features, regal and full of treachery, the kind of beauty that a fly might notice only after they've stepped into the spider's parlor.

I'm not sure how long I had been standing there, gawking at her like some dumb-ass tourist on a cruise ship. It must have been long enough because I was swiftly pulled from my wandering thoughts by a nudge from Iroh.

And it was only when she turned those predator's eyes of hers in my direction that I realized I was the only asshole on this ship not bowing to her.

I was very quick to rectify this, followed my companion's example and bowed as well. The last thing I wanted was to be the one who screwed things up for everyone else because I didn't know when to mind my fucking manners.

After enough time had passed with us staring at our shoes, Zuko was the first to rise, followed closely by Iroh and then finally myself.

The princess of the Fire Nation extended both hands, regarding all three of us in a grand gesture of greeting. I couldn't help but inwardly shrink at the sight of her nails, sharpened to resemble dragon's claws; a style supposedly favored by the ladies of Fire Nation nobility. Only in this case, it was a style that the princess had taken to a far more vicious extreme.

I flexed my hand, skin crawling at the unpleasant memory of being held by those cruel little digits of hers.

"In the name of the Fire Nation, it's people and our beloved Fire Lord, I bid you both welcome!" Her tone practically oozed with insincere sweetness and I honestly couldn't tell if she was being gracious or condescending.

Something in my gut told me that it was probably a lethal combination of the two.

It was at this time that one of the officers suddenly broke away from the others, his armor and commanding manner instantly marking him as the ship's captain. Though slightly droop-eyed, a satisfied smirk was spread across his mustachioed face as he placed himself between us and the princess.

"Are we ready to depart, Your Highness?" he asked, bowing before Azula who favored all of us with a gentle smile.

"You may tell the crew to set a course for _home_ , Captain," she answered, putting extra emphasis on the word 'home.'

"Home," I heard Zuko repeat the word, the usual rasp in his voice sounding almost subdued.

At first, I'd wanted to roll my eyes, a natural reaction I'd picked up as a result of being forced to listen to Zuko talk for extended periods of time.

But then again, what right did I have to mock him? Much as I hated to admit it, the prince and I were more or less in the same boat; just a couple unlucky schmucks who were desperate to get home.

And so I let it go, opting to just look on ahead and saying absolutely nothing as I'm sure The General would have preferred.

The captain bowed once again. "Very good, Your Highness," he said before turning to address the rest of the crew with a wide sweep of his arm. "You heard the Princess!" He shouted. "All hands prepare for departure! Raise the anchor! We're taking the prisoners back to the capit..."

He stopped talking, the last word dying on his tongue as a look of horror quickly took hold of his features.

Something flashed across Azula's face before she fixed the captain with a fiery glare.

"P-p-princess," he spluttered, all the swagger and arrogance now gone from his posture. I watched as he all but crumbled under the cruel look of unbridled fury that was now directed at him.

"Shit!" I muttered under my breath.

The whole damn thing had been a setup.

And all three of us had just walked our asses right into it.

I'm not really sure who it was that made the first move; Azula, Zuko, Iroh or the fucker standing behind me. Maybe it was all of them at once. All I know, is that before I had a chance to fully realize what was happening, Iroh had launched himself at the two guards nearest to him while Zuko went straight for his sister.

The old man made quick work of his two opponents, moving with a swiftness that none would have expected from a man his age. He ducked and slid to one side, dodging blasts of fire aimed for his head and feet before a kick to the groin and stomach sent both men flying backwards.

"You lied to me!" Zuko screamed towards his younger sister, blind fury burning in both his eyes. His scar crinkled under the weight of his glare.

"I always lie, Zuzu!" Azula replied before moving to intercept the first blow. "Is it my fault you haven't figured that out, by now?" She spun around and slashed her hand downward, sent a spinning disk of blue fire hurtling toward's Zuko which exploded where his feet had been just mere seconds prior.

And me? I had tried to make a run for it but the guy standing behind me had other ideas. A hand grabbed me by my arm while my feet were swept out from beneath me, knocking me on my ass. From there, I was quickly forced onto my stomach with my arm twisted behind my back.

When I cried out, my head was suddenly shoved down against the deck, courtesy of another guard's boot. I'm honestly not sure which was worse, the smell of komodo-rhino dung coming off the boot or the rivet that was digging into my cheekbone.

The sounds of fighting continued, moving from one end of the deck to the other with a swiftness and fury that I wouldn't have been able to follow, even if my face wasn't being pinned against a metal plate.

Across the deck I could just barely make out the sound of Zuko and Azula's voices as they continued to engage each other. Though I couldn't make out the words, I could recognize the sound of angry desperation from Zuko and chiding laughter from his sister.

That's when things took a very unexpected turn.

Something behind me snapped loudly; a sharp, ear-piercing crackle that hissed and hummed in an unpleasant cacophony of lacerated sound. The air suddenly became dry and for the briefest of moments, I swore I could feel the hairs on my arm stand on edge.

Blue-bright light flashed above us in jagged lines, followed swiftly by a terrible booming of sound that all but shook the entire ship to it's smallest rivit. The light jerked and jackknifed in a vicious torrent that arced overhead before striking the side of a nearby cliff.

There came a second explosion and I could hear the splash of falling rocks hitting the water. My nose wrinkled at the strange smell — like freshly burnt ozone — that now filled the air.

A girlish yelp suddenly broke through the rest of the noise which was quickly followed by the sound of something much bigger than a few rocks hitting the water.

"Zuko, let's go!" I heard Iroh call out to his nephew and I was just able to catch a glimpse as they both made a dash for the gangway, knocking aside the soldiers who attempted to stop them.

Zuko was the first one over, with Iroh following close behind.

" _IROH!"_ I shouted, managing to lift my face off the deck before it was quickly pushed back down again. "For fuck sake, _HELP ME!_ "

Upon hearing my voice, the old man suddenly stopped and jerked around, a look of horrified realization on his face as he stared into my pleading eyes. He started forward at once, let loose a wave of blazing hot projectiles that caused the men standing between us to scatter.

A weak but hopeful smile spread across my face as Iroh shouted for me to hold on.

But before he could advance any further, his one-man rescue operation was brought to a sudden halt as another blast of fire was sent his way.

Dozens more swiftly followed as another phalanx of soldiers came piling out of the row of hatches that had suddenly blinked open along the length of the deck.

I called out to Iroh again, this time from behind a forest of armored legs as my captors sent more bolts of red and orange fire screaming in the old man's direction.

Within seconds, the entire deck was completely overrun.

I watched as he slapped more of the flaming projectiles aside before returning with his own. When our eyes met once more, he looked at me with the most pained expression I had ever seen on a human face, before slowly shaking his head.

He then lifted his hands, palms held outward and empty.

" _Forgive me."_

I saw him mouth the words before turning around and making his own escape, disappearing from sight as he headed down the gangway.

"IROH!" I called out to him one last time.

There came no response.

He was gone.

They both were.

For a long, drawn out moment, I felt as though my insides had collapsed upon themselves. It filled me with a cold, sickening sensation that was already starting to creep its way up the back of my throat.

I'd been left behind… abandoned.

My whole body was now shaking and for a moment, I'd even forgotten how to breathe.

I wanted to cry.

I wanted to scream.

I wanted to tear myself apart, down to the smallest particle of my existence and just keep tearing and tearing until there was nothing left of me.

"Idiots!" I suddenly heard the captain shout. "What are you standing around gawking for? You there! Go after the traitors! And you! Go help the Princess! Quickly now before—"

A white column of steam and boiling water suddenly exploded somewhere off the ship's port side, launching a small dark shape high into the air. From where I lay, I was just able to catch a fleeting glimpse as it arced through the air, trailing water and jets of blue flame before slamming into the deck with such terrible force that I'm certain the whole ship felt it.

The soldiers around me stiffened, some even faltering as the deck itself seemed to buckle beneath their feet.

A spray of hot water soon began raining down upon all of us.

What sounded like a girl's scream suddenly tore through the air; a furious, inhuman whale of fury that was swiftly drowned out by a blast of scalding hot steam that ripped across the entire deck.

I cried out as the burning torrent passed over me as well, felt my skin parch and blister where the superheated air touched it.

When the chaos had finally subsided, I listened as the captain hastily made his way over to where the impact had originated.

"Your Highness!" he called out to her. "Are you alright? Do you need the physician to — hrggkhgg!"

The man's last words never made it passed his mouth as they were quickly replaced by the inaudible gargle of someone being choked.

"Do you…" I heard Azula hiss. "Have any idea what you've done?"

Even from a distance, the girl's voice was terrifying.

"I had them, Captain! I had both of them right in the palm of my hand!" There came a sudden rustling of leather, a scraping of armor against the deck, followed by another pitiful gurgle.

"And now, because of your idiocy! Your incompetence! Your… _mouth!_ Not only have my brother and uncle escaped our trap, they now know exactly what will be waiting for them should our paths ever cross again!"

I flinched at the sound of something being violently thrown to the deck and the muffled crunch of something else breaking under the force of the impact.

I heard the captain shriek.

But it seemed as though the Princess was far from finished with the poor bastard.

"And now…" she went on. "I have to decide whether my brother and uncle were able to escape because you're either an idiot or because you're a traitor."

"Your Highness!" The man was practically sobbing. "I swear by the sacred light of Agni's Fire! By the Eternal Flame of the Burning Throne! I will see this mistake is rectified!" He took in a final rasping breath before adding, "I… I swear… on… on the life of my wife and daughters that… that I will… make this right!"

A brief silence followed the man's pleads before Azula finally responded.

"No captain," she said, her tone softening. "I will be the one who makes this right, starting with you."

My blood went cold when the gruesome sound of ripping flesh touched my ears; a warm splattering of organic noise that spilled wetly onto the deck. It was as though someone had kicked over a bucket of old soup. I listened to the last sickening gurgle of the captain's dying breath as it came bubbling out of him.

But it was the slump of a corpse falling against the deck that finally brought the horrific symphony to a close.

My throat clenched. Water pooled beneath my tongue as my nose wrinkled at the rising smell of copper and voided bowel. I could feel my heart thumping against my ribs and judging from the cold wetness that now covered the front of my pants, I had already managed to piss myself.

I felt like throwing up.

That's when I heard the familiar tap-tapping of approaching footsteps, moving in a slow, unhurried pace.

Tap… tap… tap…

I listened as the sound grew louder, helpless as each new footfall brought the Fire Princess that much closer to where I was being held down.

Tap… tap… tap…

She was so close now. So close, that each step was like the dull thumping of the executioner's drum announcing my impending slaughter. The sound hammered against the inside of my skull until I could feel it in my eyes. I squeezed them shut, haggard breaths so rapid that even the man holding me down was feeling it.

At that moment, I wanted nothing more than for this nightmare to finally end.

The footsteps finally ceased and when I opened my eyes I found myself staring down the pointed tip of Azula's boot, perfectly positioned to kick my teeth in the moment I made the first wrong move.

Something dripped.

My eyes went to the little red splotch that had suddenly appeared a few inches from my nose. From there, I slowly directed my vision upward, traced the contours of a trousered leg until I was looking at Azula's blood-drenched hand which hung loose and dripping at her side.

I watched as she flexed her fingers, claw tips catching little scraps of sunlight like shards of broken glass, every stretch and curl of a digit sending more little red droplets raining towards my face.

"Stand him up," she ordered.

The boot was lifted from my head, and I was given just a brief moment of sweet, merciful relief before I was roughly yanked to my feet. The two guards that had been holding me down were now holding me up by my arms, strong hands pushing my head forward until the bones in my neck were crying for mercy.

"Today has proven to be a tremendous disappointment," I heard Azula say to me. Her tone was surprisingly calm, despite having just murdered one of her own men. "And if there is one thing in this world which I simply cannot tolerate, it's being disappointed."

When I was finally allowed to look up, I saw that the Fire Princess was now standing as close to me as she had been when I had first met her. Her hair was damp and disheveled, the two stylized locks now frayed and uneven. Her makeup was smeared and dripping and her once pristine uniform now smelled of boiled seawater.

Her gaze was now level with mine, lips pursed, her cruel eyes burning with lethal intent. "Do you know why the Fire Lord chose me for this little errand of his?" She asked. "It's because I have never failed him. No matter how great or small the task, no matter how important or trivial, I have always fulfilled it with nothing short of perfection."

She turned her back to me and looked out across the deck, the telltale signs of her fight with Zuko and Iroh still smoldering like doused campfires. "This will be the first time in which I have failed my father and I simply cannot have that. I would just as soon cast myself into the nearest volcano! No, my brother and uncle will have to be hunted down like the worthless little rabbit-dogs they are, a task that now seems to have fallen upon myself to see completed."

She finally turned her attention back to me, heel grinding against the deck's iron-heavy surface as she spun about. Her eyes once again found mine. "Which just leaves me with one remaining question… What am I to do… with _you?"_

The girl liked to talk. More than that, she liked to hear herself talk.

And to think I once thought Zhao was a bloviating cunt.

"My father's instructions were very clear: Find my brother and uncle and bring them back to The Capital, so that all of the Fire Nation can see them marched through the streets in disgrace." She raised an eyebrow, her smirk taking on a whole new level of unwholesomeness. "He never said anything… about _you_."

I was too tired to formulate a response — Not that it would've mattered if I could; seeing as how this sadistic little _klafte_ had no doubt decided what to do with me, long before she'd ordered the stormtroopers to stand me up.

"So as far as I'm concerned, you…" Azula reached out with her blood-stained hand and pinched a grain of dirt off my shoulder, "…are nothing but excess baggage. And if my time out at sea has taught me one thing, it's that there's only one way to deal with excess baggage."

She flicked the dirt from her finger, her eyes not once leaving mine. "Throw him over the side."

As soon as the order was given, the guards yanked me round, once again twisting both my arms behind my back and grabbing handfuls of my hair. They dragged my soon to be corpse towards the edge of the deck where a section of the guardrail suddenly dropped open with a dry scrape of metal.

I honestly can't remember if I begged or struggled.

The sound of waves crashing against the ship's hull filled my ears.

Within seconds, my entire world became nothing but an endless stretch of blue sky and ocean before I was shoved over the side.

* * *

**(A/N) I would like to extend my thanks to everyone who favorited/followed both this story and myself. If you've made it this far, then I thank you even more. please continue to fav and follow if you are enjoying The Iron Dream and please feel free to leave a comment or review if have an extra moment to spare. I'm very interested to hear your thoughts.**

**Until next chapter, this is DDL wishing all of you to be safe and stay healthy during these Resident Evil flavored times we seem to be living in!**


	3. Out of the Frying Pan

_**You never know what worse luck your bad luck has saved you from** _

**-Cormac McCarthy: No Country for Old Men**

* * *

"Stop!" Azula called out to her men just as they released their grip on the red-haired foreigner named Isaac. The order snapped outward across the deck like the thongs of a whip.

With well practiced swiftness and reflexes, the two firebenders thrust their hands out and grabbed hold of Isaac's shirt before he could fall out of their reach.

His body jerked violently and a loud yelp followed swiftly after.

The Fire Princess smirked, pleased with the efficiency of her men as they held the foreigner in place. His bulkish shape writhed and wriggled as he was dangled precariously over a hundred-foot drop and all but certain death at the bottom of a salty, wet grave.

"Don't put him into the water just yet."

She strode across the deck, soldiers stepping aside as she made her way towards the open section of the ship's guardrail. A quick gesture of her hand and Isaac was roughly yanked away from the edge and made to face her once again.

Azula could see his eyes following her every movement and her every step, watching her, waiting for her to make that next move. Sunlight glittered off the little beads of sweat that dotted his forehead, his mouth stretched thinly between two freckled cheeks that wouldn't stop quivering.

She snapped her fingers before pointing at Isaac's travel bag which lay in a discarded heap. A guard quickly snatched up the bag and placed it in her hand while she continued to make her way towards the foreigner.

When there was only a few steps remaining between them, Azula held up her free hand and concentrated, bent the flow of chi in her arm until the air around it began to ripple. A corona of blue fire blossomed in her palm. It spread outward, engulfing her fingers in a violent swirl of heat that sapped the moister from her skin.

Isaac recoiled from the flame, watched as the Fire Princess dug her claws into the canvas and tore it open as though it were paper.

There came an unpleasant clattering as the bag's contents were spilled onto the deck; ink-blocks and a scriber, brushes and a roll of parchment. There were broken bits of machinery; some gears and bolts and springs; a spare set of clothes in dire need of laundering and even a girl's anklet made of seashells along with a number of other various odds and ends; nothing which Azula thought warranted more than a cursory glance.

There had even been a few Fire Nation coins tucked away; mostly copper and silver pieces with one or two golds for the sake of variety.

When the last of the bag's contents had been emptied onto the deck, Azula discarded the burning remains with a casual toss over her shoulder. Like a pantherhawk readying itself to pounce, she lowered to a crouch, head stooped upon her slender neck as she settled her weight upon the balls of her feet. One hand resting on her knee, she delved the other into the clutter, rooting about and probing into every fold, every crease and every little nook and cranny that she came across. She unrolled the parchment and then just as quickly threw it aside when she saw that it was blank and unused.

Her eyes then went to the ink blocks and scriber.

 _Where are they?_ she silently asked, searching for the diagrams and the blueprints that had attracted her attention the previous evening. She searched through the clothing a second time, giving each threadbare garment a rough shake before quickly rising to her full - _not quite_ \- five feet of height.

When she turned her attention back towards Isaac, she could see that he was on the verge of collapsing.

 _Good…_ she thought to herself as she moved in closer, watched her captive feebly try to maintain what little of his composure still remained. … _that's exactly where I want you to be._

When there was naught but a scant few inches separating their toes, Azula looked up at her reflection staring back at her from the scratched lenses of Isaac's glasses. She watched him closely, saw the way his eyes seemed to stutter beneath his rapidly blinking eyelids.

And then, with slow, deliberate purpose to her movements, the Fire Princess reached up and carefully pulled the glasses away from his eyes, leaving them exposed and vulnerable.

She regarded the object with mild curiosityas they glittered weightlessly in her hand. She tilted them this way and that, sneered at the scuffs and scratches while at the same time admiring the way the light danced across the metal and the glass.

She couldn't help but smirk as he blinked and squinted in a feeble attempt to bring his eyes back into focus.

"What the hell do you want from m—" he began to ask but was swiftly cut off by the tip of Azula's finger against his lips. She shushed him gently; the way a parent might with a fussy child or an unruly pet.

She then pressed her finger downward, leaving a small scratch on Isaac's lip as her claw slid towards his chin.

A little dollop of blood soon rose from where she had cut him and she watched Isaac lick it clean while her finger continued its slow, predatory descent.

She plucked at one of the many tangles in his beard before moving lower, past the unprotected flesh of his throat and down the raggedy shirt which covered his unrefined bulkiness. Her eyes never left his, not even when she spread her hand open, letting her fingers blossom outward as she slowly ran them along the slope of his wide belly.

He winced under her touch but continued to say nothing.

As her hand passed over the course, tightly woven material of his trousers, the Fire Princess felt the damp stain that had spread across the front.

She couldn't help but smile with cruel satisfaction.

A sudden jerk of the foreigner's wide hips pulled them out of her reach.

Azula cocked one of her dark eyebrows, saw that Isaac was now wearing the same fiery look she had seen him give her brother. Only this time, the look was not directed at her – nor anyone else for that matter; only at the empty space which lay somewhere to his left.

The sudden reddening of his pale, freckled cheeks had not escaped Azula's notice, either.

 _Oh? And what's this now?_ she asked herself. _Are we a shy little lummox, Mr. Brockmarsh?_ Her smirk only deepened further, twisting into a look so utterly cruel that it almost seemed to be a mockery of itself.

She allowed her hand a short moment to linger before moving it across his thigh. _Sorry, but you're far from my type…_ Her eyes focused on the subtle bulging at his side which her hand was now moving towards. A _nd the only precious thing I'm looking for is right… here!_

Isaac yelped behind his tightly pinched lips as Azula suddenly thrust her fingers into his pocket. With a sharp yank, she pulled out the bundle of papers that had been several times folded and stuffed within.

She snapped the sheets open with a flick of her slender wrist and carefully looked over each document, felt the familiar crinkle of the fibers under her fingers. They were just as she had remembered them; crisp, dark lines and incomprehensible notes, all fighting for dominance over the paper's mottled surface.

Silence gripped the upper deck as she began to flip through each page, moving from one design to the next while her eyes devoured every last grain of detail.

Nobody spoke.

Nobody moved.

Nobody breathed.

For a moment, Azula even thought she could hear the dull lump-lumping of Isaac's blood while she coldly regarded him the way a chef might look at a fish before making the first cut.

The Fire Princess then leaned forward, brought her heart-shaped face closer to Isaac's until she could feel the heat of his breath on her cheeks. Her full lips parted, followed swiftly by a flash of pink as she ran her tongue between two rows of pearl-bright teeth.

"I'm going to ask you several questions." she said. "And it would be in your best interest to answer me with nothing short of the absolute truth. Because I'll know if you don't."

Isaac cried out when she suddenly thrust her hand towards his face, grabbing him and forcing him to look down at her. He resisted at first and when he did, her grip only tightened, digging her claws into the soft flesh of his cheeks.

"…And then I will personally set the inside of your lying mouth on fire." She leaned in even closer until all Isaac could see were two ink-black pupils floating in molten pools of gold.

"Do you know what happens to a human tongue when it's put to the flame?" she asked. "It swells up like a sausage; saliva sizzling all around it; growing bigger and bigger until it finally bursts open and you die choking on your own boiling juices!"

Azula finally moved her face away from Isaac's, kept her fingers firmly locked upon his jaw. "Do you understand?"

They remained like that for some time; silent and unmoving; both staring into each other's unblinking eyes. Only the sound of waves crashing against the ship's hull could be heard.

Somehow, against the crippling terror that had all but left him paralyzed, Isaac actually found it in himself to answer her.

"I understand," he said, the words stumbling off his tongue.

Azula's expression seemed to soften at the answer as did her grip.

"Good," she said before giving Isaac's abused cheek a not-so-gentle pat. "I hate having to deal with dumb-dumbs and half-wits." She turned her back on him, moved away several steps before suddenly stopping. "Let's begin, shall we?"

Azula held up the diagrams, shoved them in Isaac's face. "Are you the one who drafted these designs?" She watched as Isaac's eyes darted between her and the papers clutched in her hand. She watched his expression go from a look of confusion to one of panic.

"I don't hear you giving me an answer." she said. "And I think it should go without saying, that not answering me will be treated the same as if you had lied. Now, shall we try this again? Or shall we just skip right to the part where I kill you?"

Azula pushed the diagrams closer to Isaac's face which made him flinch. "Did you draft these diagrams?" she asked a second time, dropped the pitch of her voice, her eyes narrowing sharply. "Yes or no!"

She was about to shove the papers at him again when a sudden slackening in his jaw caught her attention.

Inhaling a long, deep breath, the red-haired foreigner closed his gray eyes. They seemed almost naked without their corrective lenses. And then, with an equally long exhale, he finally answered.

"I did." His strangely accented voice was shaky and uncertain and his face a was a mask of absolute defeat. "I was the one that drafted them."

"Are you sure? Because for a moment there, it looked as though you were having trouble deciding."

"I _am_ the one who drafted them."

"If you say so," the Fire Princess replied, satisfied enough with Isaac's answer, needlessly drawn out though it may have been. "And are these designs of your own creation? Or did you just simply copy the works of others?"

Isaac stared at her; a sudden twitching of his nostrils a clear indication that Azula's question had touched a nerve; just as she had fully intended it to.

"The designs are mine, though some of them are based on pre-existing technology from my wor–" he suddenly stopped talking, pulling the last word back behind his lips before saying, "… From where I come from. But because I had nothing to reference, I was left to more or less fill in the blanks on my own."

Azula took a moment to study him. She wondered if he was really so naive to think that she hadn't caught that slip of his tongue.

 _World,_ she thought, tilting her head ever so slightly. _That's what you were about to say, weren't you?_ She scrutinized every inch of his face; every twitch of his mouth, every flick of his eyes, every bead of sweat that rolled down his cheeks only to become lost in a forest of red whiskers. _Why do you hide that, I wonder?_

Normally, she would have punished him on the spot for such obvious dishonesty.

But these were unique circumstances.

So instead, Azula simply decided to let herself be amused and take the foreigner's pitiful attempt at subterfuge with a grain of salt… so long as he didn't make it a habit.

"You still don't sound very certain." She said tauntingly. "And in my experience, an uncertain answer is not that far from being an untruthful one."

"It's the truth," Isaac insisted.

"Is it?"

"Yes!" Isaac snapped back at her. His whole face was trembling, eyes fluttering open and closed in broken tune with his breathing, something which Azula had noticed to be growing considerably shorter and noticeably louder. "Yes! Fucking yes! I'm telling you the truth, Goddamnit!"

One of the guards cuffed him across the back of the head. He cried out, the wild puff-ball of his hair wobbling under the blow. He stumbled forward half a step before being roughly yanked back with a warning to watch his mouth.

Azula said nothing, waited for Isaac to collect his bearings before continuing her interrogation.

"And the machines depicted here," she said while shuffling through the diagrams. "Could they be built using Fire Nation technology and resources?"

"Yes. I pretty much designed them with that in mind."

"By you?"

Isaac blinked. "What?"

"You!" Azula said sharply. "I'm asking _you_ , if you can build these machines as well as design them." She gave him a taunting look. "Or am I giving you far too much credit?"

He stared at her for a moment that probably seemed much longer than it really was. With only a few questions, she had backed him into a proverbial corner, where telling the truth could be just as dangerous as telling a lie. And she was willing to believe that he knew this as well.

For him, lying meant suffering an agonizing death.

And telling the truth, well… Even that could potentially lead to suffering of a different kind.

It was as though she had forced him onto a tightrope suspended over a net of fire.

All she had to do now was sit back and wait to see whether he makes it to the other side…

…Or just simply drops!

It almost made her wish that she had a bag of fire flakes to nibble on while she watched.

Isaac cast his eyes towards his feet. The hardness and fatigue that had spread through his outlandish features gradually went soft and loose as melted wax while at the same time heavy as lead.

It was the look of someone who had just completely given up.

A tiny hint of a smile touched the Fire Princess's lips as she fought to conceal the almost girlish excitement that suddenly ignited within her.

She heard Isaac smother a curse before he slowly lifted his face, just enough for him to meet her own. His mouth was twisted, his teeth grinding loudly from behind his cheeks.

"Yes…" he eventually said, spitting out his answer as though it were a bite of rotten food. The look on his face was filled with loathing and frustration. "Yes… I could build them."

He let his head drop and cursed again.

Azula let him remain that way for a time. She watched the slumping of his shoulders, listened to the guttering rasp of his labored breathing before stepping closer.

He flinched under her touch, unprepared for the softness of her hand as it settled gently upon his cheek.

"That's good." Azula said. "You've been doing very well, so far." Her voice had taken on a slightly less hostile tone. "I just have one last question and then I promise this will all be over. It's perhaps the most important one I'm going to ask you, so I suggest you consider your answer very carefully."

She placed her hand over Isaac's throat, felt a vein throb beneath her thumb as she pressed it near his windpipe. His neck muscles bulged and constricted under her touch, causing him to swallow loudly. She then leaned in closer, little glints of amber and gold rippling in the cores of her wickedly narrowed eyes.

"Who am I?" Her fingers squeezed down upon his flesh.

Isaac just stared at her and it seemed no matter how much or how hard he tried, he was simply unable to free himself from the Fire Princess's all consuming gaze.

There were stories; scraps of rumors that spoke of certain firebenders who could set distant objects aflame by just looking at them. Azula had always regarded those stories as little more than the fairytales of peasants and bored little children.

However, after watching the foreigner as he writhed under her own fiery gaze, the way he crumpled like paper held over a flame; even she had to wonder if there might actually be something to those stories.

"Who… am… I?" she repeated, more slowly this time, gave Isaac's pale throat another squeeze.

He was warm to the touch and the hairs of his beard tickled the back of her hand when he swallowed a second time. Desperation mingled with hesitation in his outlandish features. She watched as his face almost seemed to collapse upon itself, dark eyebrows scrunched thickly over his prominent nose.

Azula wondered if another threat was in order before he finally spoke again. His dry lips parted, slowly opening to reveal the impenetrable, black void that had been festering inside his mouth.

"You are the one who gets to decide whether I live or die."

Azula blinked at his answer. The words had been clear and to the point, possessing a certain finality that his previous answers had sorely lacked. At first, she was almost certain that she had misheard him, or that he himself had misspoke.

Something pulled at the corners of her mouth. Her expression shifted into something that might have been friendly were it not for the malevolent gleam in her eyes.

"Well answered, Mr. Brockmarsh," she said smoothly before taking her hand off of Isaac's neck. She then ordered the two firebenders to release him.

Isaac cried out as they let him drop to the deck, falling to his hands and knees with a meaty thump. His hair fell thick and heavy over his face, hiding it behind a ragged curtain of rust-red curls and tangles.

Though it went against her otherwise unforgiving and merciless nature, Azula allowed the foreigner a small moment of relief from his torments before she addressed him one more time.

"You ought to be congratulated, Mr. Brockmarsh," she said. "It seems you're a lot smarter than you look."

"I'd rather be lucky than smart," Isaac shot back, though his voice was very weak.

"For the moment, you may consider yourself to be both."

The Fire Princess turned and addressed the rest of her men with a wide sweep of her arm. "Mr. Brockmarsh is my guest!" She announced. "And he is to be treated as such by all members of this ship's crew! Anyone here who fails to comply, or lays an unfriendly hand upon him will suffer the consequences… by _my_ hand! Is that understood?"

"Your Highness!" came the unified shout of her men, followed all at once by a crisp clattering of armor as they all saluted her with deeply bowed heads.

Azula would never grow tired of that sound. The sound of unflinching loyalty and near-fanatical devotion; the shouts, the cheers and hails; all from the throats of those whom had sworn their allegiance to her royal person.

For the Fire Princess, there was no sweeter sound.

She looked down at Isaac, knelt and pushed the tip of her longest claw beneath his chin, forced him to look her in the eyes.

"Try not to look so glum," she said through a condescending pout, before placing Isaac's glasses back over his eyes. "Though you may not believe it now, I can assure you that your fortunes have just greatly improved."

The foreigner's frayed nerves sparked behind his expression; every twitch and quirk a silent cry for reprieve.

"But fortune's favor is a fickle thing, so you would do well to proceed with caution." She leaned in closer until her mouth was just hovering over his ear and whispered, _"For the night is dark and full of terrors."_

Life once again came back into Isaac's outlandish features. His face suddenly shot upward, eyes so wide that his pupils seemed little more than a pair of dark grains set against two fields of bloodshot white.

He opened his mouth, only for an incomprehensible sluring of words to come pouring out. His eyes darted without focus. His breathing was heavy and labored as he rocked and pitched and swayed like a ship caught in the swells of a violent storm. He then lurched forward and vomited, spilling the contents of his stomach onto the metal plate beneath him.

A few sour smelling drops splattered across Azula's boot as she leapt back a few steps. Her nose wrinkled as she watched Isaac send up a second serving of undigested meals and bile. She listened to him gag and cough on each vomit flavored breath before finally collapsing onto the deck.

The Fire Princess peered down at the foreigner's unmoving bulk. Her expression was cold and indifferent, one eyebrow cocked, her head just slightly inclined. She reached out and casually prodded Isaac's shoulder with her foot, smirked as a weak groan came bubbling up from him.

 _Ah, good… still alive,_ she thought, regarded Isaac with one last contemptuous look before starting back towards the ship's pagoda. She ordered someone to _'see to the foreigner'_ as she ascended the crimson steps leading to the enormous structure's main entrance. The fortified doors greeted her with a dull rumbling of steam and gears as they spread open to admit her.

Upon entering the first of the pagoda's many red-walled chambers, Azula wasn't the least bit surprised to find Li and Lo had already been waiting for her. The two old women were like a pair of barnacles that had latched themselves to the bottoms of her feet.

They stood side by side like they always did, clothed in voluminous black robes and looking just as squat and pugnacious as ever. Their wrinkled faces sagged with disapproval; their ancient eyes critical of everything they touched.

Each was a perfect doppelgänger, with no variation to give one the slightest bit of distinction from the other.

Moving as one, the two crones bowed to Azula until their foreheads nearly touched the floor. Upon rising they each lifted a liver spotted hand from the folds of their robes, snapped their bony fingers which immediately sent five hand maids scampering forward.

The girls moved like moths flitting about a paper lantern. Skilled hands and delicate fingers worked to untie every knot and undo every clasp as they removed Azula's damp smelling armor and clothing one piece at a time. Once they were done, they bowed and moved aside so that another five girls could pat her body down with freshly warmed towels. Once her skin had been wiped clean of every last trace of sweat and sea water, she was carefully wrapped in a silk robe of burgundy and gold trim.

"It would seem that the traitors have managed to escape," Li began. Her craggy voice was dry and brittle with incomprehensible age.

"Though elude would be the more appropriate word," Lo added, her own voice a raspy reflection of her sister's.

"Your father will not be pleased when he comes to learn of this."

"Will not be pleased at all."

The Fire Princess rolled her eyes.

Behind their courtesies, their bowed heads and their servile tones, she could plainly see that the two old women were secretly relishing her failure to capture her brother and uncle.

Li and Lo were the best and worst kind of servants one could keep close. Both were obsequious and conniving and shamelessly opportunistic when it came to keeping their masters happy; whoever that master may be at the time.

There had once been a rumor — a very short-lived rumor — that the two crones had formally been the Fire Lord's caretakers during the days of his early boyhood. How they had advanced from the humble position of changing the royal linens to becoming the secret eyes and ears of the Fire Lord, himself?

Well… that was a mystery that both had gladly seen burned, salted and scattered into the wind, along with anyone foolish enough to have looked into the matter too closely.

Ironic how much trust her father put into a pair of women notorious for their untrustworthiness. But then again, Azula supposed that if ever there was a star in the universe ruthless enough to take those two treacherous moons into its orbit, it would have been her father's.

And now, it was her own stormy skies which these two puffed up clouds were presently blotting; looming, watching, listening; cultivating the Fire Princess's more vicious traits while at the same time keeping her on a short leash.

Or so they tried, in any case.

"Then perhaps we should spare the Fire Lord the unpleasantness of such a disappointment." she said while a hand maid wrapped a sash of black silk about her waist. "Why burden my poor father with an unfavorable report?" She narrowed her eyes provocatively. "Why report anything at all?"

The two women scowled, causing the crags and wrinkles of their faces to become even more pronounced.

"To hide such information from your father, be it good or bad…" Li began.

"… An unwise choice this would most certainly be." Lo finished.

The two women then spoke together as one and said, "For a withheld report can just as easily be regarded as a false report."

"And my father rarely differentiates between bad news and the ones who bring it to him," Azula countered. "So if you want to include this little set back of ours the next time you inform on me, then by all means, be my guest."

The look in her eyes was piercing.

Li and Lo opened their mouths to counter the ultimatum but then quickly pulled them shut, sucked noisily at the insides of their cheeks. "We shall honorably serve our Fire Princess as she commands us," they said in unison.

 _So predictable,_ Azula thought, scowled at the despicable display.

Fortunately, Li and Lo's more underhanded tendencies could be easily managed by their tireless dedication to self interest and preservation. For all their duplicity and conniving ways, Li and Lo were as craven as they come. A threat here, a bribe there, a little placation and patronization and they were like two lumps of old clay in Azula's hand.

"In the meantime, I want this and next month's wages docked for every man who failed in subduing my brother and uncle."

"Even the Imperial Firebenders?"

"Especially the Imperial Firebenders!" Azula snapped. "In fact, I want all of them demoted by one full rank and the officers flogged!" Her eyes narrowed into a pair of cruel little slits.

"On second thought," she added, shooing the maids away once they had finished placing a pair of dark slippers over her feet. "Just have three of the officers keel-hauled but make sure it's done in front of the others." She gave each foot a stretch, flexed her ankles and wiggled her toes before pulling them back beneath her robe.

"It shall be as you command it, Princess."

"And seeing as how you two are actually making yourselves useful, for a change," Azula added further. "Why don't you be a pair of darlings and see to the foreigner's accommodations? Make sure they put him someplace comfortable but modest; nothing too fancy— No sense in overwhelming the poor lummox any further."

Li frowned. "I fear that there are no spare quarters in which to accommodate him."

"Then just stick him in one of the officer's quarters. I'm fairly certain one of them will be made available after you've seen to that _other thing_ that I asked you to."

Lo answered her sister's frown with one of her own. The two shared a glance before eventually bowing— though not quite as deeply this time. "Will there be anything else that you require of us, your Highness?" they asked together.

"There is, actually," Azula answered. "Send word to my cook that he's to prepare his best dishes for tonight's dinner." She paused suddenly, touched a finger to her lips and said, "Tell him to make sure that he prepares enough servings for two."

"Two, your Highness?"

"Mr. Brockmarsh shall be joining me, this evening; so have him cleaned up and given a set of fresh clothes once he's finally awake." She then quickly asked, "I trust neither of you have any objections? No? Good!" Her tone was harsh and confrontational, her golden eyes provocative. "Now go and make sure my guest is being properly taken care of."

"And what of the ship's captain, your Highness?"

"What of it?"

"A ship without a captain is a dragon without a head."

"Your Highness would be most wise in selecting a replacement."

"Yes, very wise indeed, your Highness would most certainly be."

It was an effort for Azula to resist roasting the two old women alive until both were naught but two smoldering piles of ash and bones and burnt clothing. With a shake of her head, she gestured at them dismissively.

"Pick a name from out of a hat for all I care!"

She shot both women a look that told them not to say another word, smirked triumphantly as she watched them bow one last time before scuttling off to carry out her orders.

 _I'll have to do something about those two,_ she mused to herself, deep inside the safety of her head where not even Li and Lo's prying ears could hear her. _And_ _the sooner I do, the brighter my little corner of the universe will be._

When the doors closed behind the old women's retreating figures, she turned towards the remaining hand maids who had stayed behind. One tentatively approached her; very young and very pretty. Her dark eyes were cast downward, her small hands clasped submissively over the plain looking servant's frock that hung shapelessly over her hips. When she was close enough, she dropped to her knees and bowed.

"Does her Royal Highness wish to have a bath drawn for her?"

Just as Azula was about to scare the poor girl off, she stopped and brought the back of her hand to her nose. She sniffed once and then a second time, grimaced at the unpleasant odor of saltwater and boiled leather; of blood and sweat and even a small trace of Isaac's vomit.

"Agni's _prick_ , yes!" The Fire Princess exclaimed before heading deeper into the Pagoda's labyrinth of interlocking rooms and lavishly decorated chambers. "And tell those useless bath attendants that I want the water hot enough for me to actually feel it this time!"

* * *

**(A/N) Many, many thanks to those who’ve bookmarked, given kudos and left comments. I’m always interested in hearing feedback from my readers so please, do continue to comment if you’re enjoying this story.**   
  


**Stay healthy and be safe!**


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